by Мишель Роуэн
So I allowed myself to relax a bit. Just a bit.
I hadn't been to the mall for a couple of weeks. Mostly due to my acute problem of being broke. What fun was window shopping if there wasn't the potential of buying something?
And sure, I could probably go shopping every day if I wanted to take Thierry's readily available money. Part of me did. Part of me wanted to completely replenish the wardrobe
I'd lost when my apartment blew up. But the other part of me wanted to do the right thing and wait. Earn the money on my own—although I still wasn't quite sure how I would do that—and buy myself everything I needed.
The harder road, sure, but it did give me a sense of pride.
But you know what they say about pride.
After being at the mall for an hour already Amy hadn't bought a thing, which was unusual for her. We browsed through a store that specialized in lingerie. It was a virtual sea of silk and lace.
"What do you think of this?" Amy held a bright pink Merry Widow with dangling garter straps up in front of her. The color matched her current hair color perfectly.
I scrunched my nose. "A little too trampy for my tastes."
She smiled. "Just what I was looking for! Thanks!"
I glanced over at Butch, who stared at the store mannequin dressed in a lavender corset, crotchless panties, and a black feather boa draped over one shoulder. He seemed mesmerized.
I left Amy to continue her trampy shopping spree and wandered the store. It smelled nice in there—a jasmine fragrance filled the air that emanated from a bath and beauty section.
A "mood-enhancing" candle flickered on display.
Over in the bathrobe section I stopped in front of a gorgeous dark blue chenille one. I checked the tag. Over two hundred dollars. Ouch. I sighed and ran my hands over the super-soft material.
A salesgirl approached. "Can I help you with anything?"
I stopped molesting the bathrobe of my dreams and shook my head. "Just browsing."
She nodded at the robe. "That's on sale. No tax this week."
"Maybe let me know when you have a 90 percent off sale."
She grinned. "I know. It is expensive, but quality costs money."
I considered my Visa card. Not a chance. I could already hear it practically screaming from inside my purse. It didn't want to come out any time soon or it might charge me with abuse.
"Try it on," the salesgirl prompted, taking it off the hanger and holding it up.
"Oh, you're good." I slipped it on and pulled it around me in a big chenille hug. I felt automatically relaxed. Two hundred bucks for stress relief. No tax.
"Looks great on you!" She must have been on commission.
"I really want it," I said.
She blinked. "Then it's yours."
I frowned at her. "What?"
She blinked again. "If you want it, then it's yours. I will wrap it up for you."
"Hold on. I really can't afford it."
She shook her head. "It's yours. For free."
"Uh…"
But before I could say anything else, she pulled the robe off me and took it up to the cash register, wrapped it in tissue paper, and put it in a large bag with some bath beads thrown in to give it a nice scent. She pushed it across the counter to me.
I studied her. What was the catch? "Are you sure this is free?"
The smile seemed frozen on her face and her eyes were a bit glazed over. "Yes. Free.
Enjoy your new bathrobe. Good-bye."
She turned and walked away.
Amy joined me at the cash register. "I didn't see anything I liked. Ready to go?"
I nodded.
Maybe it was a promotion. Maybe I was the thousandth customer in the store that day.
Weird.
With a last glance at the salesgirl, now helping another customer, I accompanied Amy out of the store. I expected the girl to snatch the bag away from me, but she didn't. Butch finally tore his eyes off the scantily clad mannequin and joined us.
"That was so strange." I took a last look back at the store. "I just got this for free."
Amy peeked into my bag. "Wow, really?"
"Yeah."
"That is so cool. Who says you're not having a lucky day?"
Actually, I did. Major. And a free bathrobe didn't exactly balance the scales.
I shrugged inwardly. But it was a nice start.
"Hey, look, George is here, too." Amy pointed over at the food court as we passed it.
And yes, there was George, drinking a milkshake and reading a magazine. He had a Band-
Aid on his neck. Actually, two Band-Aids. One to cover each fang mark I'd made last night. I guess he hadn't healed yet.
I cringed at the memory.
He lowered his copy of Vanity Fair as we approached. "Oh, look who it is. Bitey McBitealot."
I sat down across from him. "How's the neck?"
"Tender." He eyed me. "How's your stake wound?"
I automatically brought a hand up to my chest. I'd actually forgotten about it for a few minutes, but just the mention brought back the memory in Technicolor. "Almost healed."
His eyes flicked to Butch. "Who's he?"
"Haven't you met Butch before? He's my new bodyguard."
"Hi there." Butch awkwardly waved his hand in George's direction.
"Charmed." George sipped from his milkshake. "Is it strange having a bodyguard?
Somebody following you wherever you go like you're some sort of celebrity?"
I thought about it. "I'm a fan of anything that keeps me breathing."
"Maybe he can make sure you don't bite anyone else."
I held back any witty reply to that because he was absolutely correct. And he did have the right to still be mad at me, which obviously he was. I wouldn't have been too thrilled if somebody had chomped on me without permission. I still hadn't forgiven the blind date that started my new fangtastic lifestyle off in the first place. And he was dead.
My attention moved over to a nearby table—a mom, a dad, and two little girls. A normal, happy little family. I sighed. They probably had a white picket fence in their front yard and everything. They were eating burgers and fries, and had soft drinks in front of them.
My mouth felt dry. "God, I am so thirsty right now."
Butch grabbed my shoulders. "NO!"
"Not thirsty that way. I mean…" I made brief eye contact with a woman carrying a tray from the taco place as she passed our table. "I really want a Diet Coke right now."
The woman paused at the table and handed me her drink with a glazed look in her eyes.
"Here you go." And then she continued walking.
I looked at the drink in my hand before taking a sip. It was a Diet Coke with lots of ice. I frowned deeply. "Okay, now that's definitely weird."
George's eyes slowly and steadily widened. "Um… what just happened?"
I shrugged. "Same thing happened in the lingerie store. I said I wanted the robe in there and the girl wrapped it up for me and gave it to me for free."
There was silence at the table for a moment and I took another sip of my free beverage.
Amy suddenly gasped. "Oh, my God, Sarah."
"What?"
"Maybe you have the thrall!"
"The what?"
"The thrall," she repeated. "It's when a vampire can control other people with the power of their brains and make them do things!"
I frowned. "It's really called the thrall?"
She waved a hand. "I heard that term somewhere."
I considered what I'd learned about vampires since becoming one and also took into consideration what I knew from movies and television.
Mind control was definitely on the list.
I chewed my bottom lip. "No, that's got to be impossible."
"What is going on?" George asked.
Amy took the liberty of filling him in on everything she knew about my curse.
Thus far, my symptoms included:
The desire to bite nec
ks. Gross.
Potential death by sunlight. Horrible.
Inability to enter somebody's home without an invite. Inconvenient.
Extra strength. Kind of cool.
Potential mind control. Uh… wicked!
Perhaps an experiment was in order. I made eye contact with George. "Give me your magazine."
He held it against his chest. "Go get your own."
Hmm. Maybe it only worked on the nonvampire members of society.
I stood up, looked around, and walked out of the food court and into the nearest store. It sold electronics and literally buzzed with customers and merchandise. I quickly browsed the shelves and picked up an MP3 player.
"Excuse me," I said to the first employee I saw.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
I held up the device and made eye contact with the guy, a teenager with bad skin and an awkward smile. "I want this. Can I have it?"
His eyes glazed over and the smile fell away. "Of course you can."
"For free?"
He nodded. "Yes. I will put it into a bag for you." He took it from me, removed the security features that would make the alarm go off as I left the store, put it in a bag, and thrust it in my direction. "Please enjoy the rest of your evening."
Sweet.
But then I frowned and looked down at the small bag. What was I doing? This wasn't right. I was stealing.
When I turned I saw that George stood behind me. He smiled very widely at me. "I needed an MP3 player. This is so awesome!"
I shook my head. "I can't do this."
"What? Of course you can. We are going on a major shopping spree. Did I mention that I totally forgive you for biting me?"
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then I walked through the store so I could hand the bag back to the employee.
He frowned. "What?"
"I can't take this."
"But you wanted it."
I met his very eager but glazed eyes. "I'd rather see you do five jumping jacks right now."
He did them.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I turned around and left the store quickly.
Butch was waiting outside with his huge arms crossed in front of him. He raised an eyebrow.
I visited a few more stores and it was the same. Anyone I made eye contact with would hand over anything, possibly including their firstborn child, if I asked for it.
It felt very wrong.
On the other hand, it also felt very right.
It was a split decision. Right in the midst of my curse trauma was this lovely little gift.
Sure, I was currently broke, but if I could get anything I wanted for free, that solved that problem, didn't it?
"I need this curse gone." I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and looked at the screen.
What was Thierry doing? Had he found Stacy yet? Should I call him?
No. I needed to let him do his thing. I knew I had a tendency to get in the way. I was trying to break myself of that habit. I didn't want him to think I was more trouble than I already was, especially since he was being so understanding and supportive about this bizarre situation. I slipped the phone back into my purse and shifted my lingerie store bag to my other hand.
Now that I thought about it, I could use a new purse. Possibly Burberry.
No. Not good.
"We need to leave now," I said, and looked at Butch and George. "Where's Amy?"
George nodded at a jewelry store up ahead. Amy's bright pink head was lowered as she inspected the diamond engagement rings that put her modest ring from Barry to shame.
I approached and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to me. "Hey, can you get me a free ring?"
"No, I can't."
She pouted. "Why not? I thought you were my best friend."
I cleared my throat and glanced at the girl across the counter. A smile appeared on her face. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Could you give us some privacy?" I asked.
Immediate eye glaze. "Sure thing." She turned and quickly walked to the back room of the store, closing the door behind her.
I sighed and looked down at the display of engagement rings. They were so beautiful. I glanced at my promise ring. Still gorgeous, but in a different way than a big fat three-carat princess-cut diamond solitaire.
Amy nodded at my new finger bling. "So that's just a Valentine's Day gift? It doesn't mean anything else?"
I curled my hand into a fist. "It means that he has very good taste in jewelry."
She blinked "Did he pop the question?"
"Being that he's already married, I think any question popping is a little out of the question."
She looked disappointed. "I forgot about that."
"That makes one of us."
She sighed and moved away from the glass case of engagement rings over to a display of necklaces and started looking through them.
Quick check: Was I feeling okay?
Yes.
Did I feel like biting anyone?
No.
Phew.
My cell phone rang. I pulled it out and looked at the screen to see that it was Thierry.
I answered it. "Thierry, hi."
"Where are you?" he asked.
"At the mall. Did you find witch-face?"
"Not yet. But we will." There was a strain to his voice. "I think we should meet at Haven in an hour. Can you be there?"
I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice that his search had turned up nothing.
I'd had high hopes. "Yeah, we'll be there."
"Have there been any incidents?" he asked.
Define incident, I thought. "No. I'm doing okay."
"I think it would be a good idea if we have you drink at the club to help alleviate any blood cravings for the next day or so."
"Is that an educated guess or do you know that for sure?"
"It is, unfortunately, only a guess." He was quiet for a moment. "I will find her, Sarah. I promise you."
The sincere tone of his words warmed my heart and I felt a lump in my throat. "I know you will."
I glanced over at the store opening to the mall and my eyes bugged out to see that the witch-in-question, Stacy McGraw, currently stood directly in front of the store. Our eyes met. She smiled and waved at me.
"Thierry… she's here," I whispered into the phone. "Stacy's here. I'm looking right at her."
"She's there? Don't let her out of your sight. You need to—"
Stacy flicked her hand at me and the phone flew out of my grip and crashed against the floor, where it exploded in a tiny puff of smoke and flame.
She grinned. "I did a location spell to find out where you are. How's it going?"
My eyes narrowed. "How do you think?"
"Ready to apologize to me yet?"
I put my hands on my hips. "Fine. I'm sorry, okay? Is that good enough for you?"
Stacy shook her head. "Wow. Not even slightly. You didn't mean it. I want an apology that you mean."
I took a step in her direction just as Amy called my name, and I glanced over at her.
"Sarah, what do you think of this?" She held up a necklace that had a big early-Madonna-
like bejeweled cross on it.
I immediately added to my growing list of curse side-effects:
Extreme aversion to crosses. EXCRUCIATING.
The cross turned a blinding white color like a tiny death-sun and sent out waves of agony directly toward my eyeballs.
"Put that thing away!" I yelled at her, falling to my knees and covering my eyes.
The light disappeared and Amy rushed to my side. "Oh, my God. Sarah, I'm sorry! I didn't even think about it."
"It's okay," I said weakly. "Just don't do it again. Please."
I looked up at the entrance to the store but Stacy was gone. I staggered to my feet and ran outside looking in all directions.
That bitch. She'd completely disappeared.
I glanced off to the side to se
e George and Butch discussing something obviously more important than keeping an eye out for the witch who'd ruined my life. They looked at me.
"What?" they said in unison.
Panic clutched at my chest. I wanted this curse gone. I hated it. I hated everything about it. It was completely ruining my life.
I swallowed past the tears that wanted to fall and went back into the store, got the clerk to come out of the back, and Amy and I walked out five minutes later with two lovely matching diamond pendant necklaces.
Sure it was stealing, but at the moment I didn't really give a rat's ass.
I also kept the bathrobe. So sue me.
Chapter 10
We arrived at Haven at a little after nine o'clock, so it was open for business. A scattering of customers sat at the tables, sipping on their drinks in the upscale club and listened to a mixture of jazz and contemporary tunes. Two waiters—both of whom I knew had already landed jobs elsewhere in readiness for the club's transferring ownership—strolled the floor.
Since it was Friday it wouldn't take long before the club was completely filled, as vampires of all professions came in to chill out after a long week at their day jobs.
I currently didn't have a day job, but I sure as hell needed to chill out.
Thierry wasn't sitting in his usual booth; instead he stood at the door scanning the entrance for our arrival. He came directly toward me as we entered the club and seemed about to hug or kiss me, but he didn't. In fact, he took a step back from me.
I swallowed hard. He was afraid to touch me in case we went all vampire-Sid-and-Nancy on everyone. It figured that the moment Thierry was okay with public displays of affection, they were off the menu.
"I was worried," he said, his face tight. "When the phone went dead—"
I held up a hand. "Stacy took off. I don't know where she went."
His jaw tightened. "At least we know she's definitely in the city."
"At least." I felt a tap on my back and turned to see Amy with her arms out.
"Somebody need a hug?" she asked.
I nodded and hugged her. It was better than nothing.
She patted my back. "Just don't bite me."
I pulled back. "Why do you have to say something like that?"
"Better safe than sorry."
George and Butch moved off to the side of the bar and ordered drinks before the bartender moved over to me.